Their flitting hands were always touching. Without betraying the slightest confusion, or making a single remark, he quietly resumed his seat. "Here he is, waterman," exclaimed the benevolent carpenter. “I do wish you and your father could come to some agreement. " "You once saw a man die that way?" the manager echoed, his recent puzzlement returning full tide. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece.
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